#starbound fanfic

[dru-plays-starbound]

Too Many Critters!

First, it was the slug in the kitchen leaving slime-trails over Sparkfoot's ingredients.

Then it was the sackbag in George's bed, followed by...

...the tiny croc in the showers which had Kata running, dripping and screaming.

Next was the ore nibbler causing Freya to waste a whole day fixing the atomic furnace. (But the narfish in the hologram didn't bother anyone).

The final nail was drilled by the steam spider in Fife's infirmary.

"The Captain can't keep leaving critters running around the ship!" cried Sparkfoot. "It's unsanitary!" "It's alarming!" cried Kata, and George nodded along. "It's dangerous!" cried Freya. "Something," Fife said, "must be done!"

"Boss," said Kata to Yuudai, "please will you speak to the Captain about this?" "Imploring. She listens to you," said Sparkfoot to Xictli. "Alright," Xictli and Yuudai said. "We'll see what can be done."

"Come," said Captain Mio when Xictli knocked on the bridge door. "Captain," said Yuudai. "The crew are concerned with the number of critters you keep abandoning on the ship." "They are becoming a nuisance and a danger," said Xictli. "Oh?" Mio asked. "The ore nibbler ate through the atomic furnace." "The slug spoiled food and the steam spider left rust in the infirmary." "And the crew don't like being surprised in their quarters." "Oh dear," said Captain Mio. "I'll see what I can do."

The first thing to do, thought Captain Mio, was to collect all the critters together. So she went around zapping up all the critters with the relocator tool. All the siders and the scarabs and the blobs and all the other critters.

Then she though 'well now I have them all, where shall I take them?' She couldn't just dump them on any only planet - they were too use to being fed. So the Captain thought long and hard. "I know!" she exclaimed to herself. "I can take them to the Zoo on Altais! The keepers there will be able to take them and look after them for me. And I can visit them any time I like."

So off she went and talked to the zoo keepers. "Of course we can look after your critters!" the zoo keeper said. "We'll be happy to have them." Mio put the critters in a special box for the zoo keeper and petted them all. "Visit any time," the zoo keeper said, smiling. "Of course. I'll see you soon!" Mio said, happy that the critters and her crew would all be happy again.

Made for the Jan 2024 prompt: Critters

#starbound #starbound fanfic #starbound fanfiction #oc mio #mio's crew #sbprompts24 #wandering words #idky I decided to write this like a children's picture book. I've not felt much like writing properly since ~nov but I think this suits #also IDK what is up with that narfish. there's some bounding-box issue which means I can't get it back in the aquarium...

[scout-company]

Time for a Book (for prompt “Bookshop”)

It’s always cooler than Acenath expects when she warps to the Nova Station. Particularly after spending hours at the arid Observatory in the height of summer. Her fur fluffs against the breeze that blows across the landing pad as she walks through the open doors, but she savors the refreshing breath it brings.

The Nova Station is a large space, a testament to the newest technologies scientists have to offer, with server racks and status monitors on open display and with bright LED lights as pops of fluorescent color, illuminating carbon-fiber composite walls where wide windows do not. After spending several days in the overgrown ruins of ancient civilizations, and another day among her own people’s traditional sandstone architecture, it’s always a slight shock to Acenath to drop by the Station. Helps her keep things in perspective, at least. 

The sweet aromas of carefully-maintained crops in hydroponics, underpinned by the sharp tang of air fresheners, tickle Acenath’s nose as she meanders through the foyer and down the stairs to the second floor of the Station. It’s fairly early in the morning, planet-side, and the local star shines its bright light through the tall windows strewn across the walls, punctuating the pristine, geometric, and otherwise nigh-monochromatic construction with views of open air. Lovely, clean, and lively as ever as people of all species wander about the place. 

Most of the visitors don’t recognize Acenath, neither does she recognize them. Aside from the staff and the regular merchants, people rarely stay here long. What started as a quiet trade station above an Orion-owned city has become a checkpoint for all sorts of people seeking new homes and new life in recent years. 

Acenath is one of the few regulars at the Nova Station. Regular enough, at least, that a few of the staff out and about give her a wave as she passes; even the Floran operating the fragrant flower stall at the far end of the foyer pauses her hawking long enough to wave.

And tucked in a quiet corner of the second floor, in a clean enclosed stall proudly announcing books for sale, so too does Acenath’s friend—the Hylotl owner of the Station’s bookstore.

“Good morning, Acenath!” Osamu hails, waving her arm wide to catch her attention. Not that doing so is entirely needed—her pale coral skin and bright orange yukata already stand out against the pristine silvers framing her store.

Acenath smiles and walks over. “To you, as well!” she greets back, lightly resting her hands on the counter and enjoying how organized her friend keeps her store. “How’s business today?”

Osamu shrugs lightly, glancing over her shoulder at the rows of books and codexes lining the shelf behind her, each standing proudly as it awaits purchase. “As well as you can expect,” she hums, the sky-blue fin that circles her head flicking slightly, “So far it’s just been the odd traveler hoping for a pamphlet or two, but come this afternoon and I’m sure I’ll have more business. After all, your books should be arriving in an hour or two,” she adds, sending a bright smile back at her, “I’ve already had some preorders.”

Acenath’s ears perk, and she barely restrains herself from bouncing on her toes. A scholar’s got to have some dignity, after all. But still she exclaims, “Oh that’s wonderful! Have you had a chance to read them yet? I’m really proud of how well the research came together!”

Osamu shakes her head with a laugh, thumbing the two books stacked on the countertop of her stall, “No, I haven’t had the opportunity yet. But speaking of your research…” Her smile grows sly and she squints one of her eyes at her. “Rumor has it you got into a bit of a situation while poking around some ruins again.”

Oh, that. A long groan escapes Acenath as her ears flatten and she wilts until her head thuds the countertop. “Ah…I was hoping you wouldn’t hear about that…” 

Again Osamu laughs, a light sound despite her low voice. “Why? What happened this time?”

Acenath’s ears flatten until the tips brush the countertop as heat rises to her face. “I…may have gotten tied up between the Peacekeepers and a bounty again,” she eventually admits.

“Again?”

“Again.”

“By Homeworld,” Osamu huffs, voice somewhere between a laugh and an astonished sigh, either way partially muffled by a hand, “I swear you have the worst luck of anyone I’ve ever met.” Her voice clears as she adds with a chuckle, “Perhaps it is to balance out your fortune with those discoveries of yours.”

Acenath rolls her eyes with another groan, head still on the counter. 

Once more Osamu chuckles, and around wisps of her own hair Acenath glimpses Osamu resting one hand on the edge of the counter while she grabs an unseen book with the other. “In any case, perhaps this will cheer you up before you have to admit anything to your superiors. Or…cheer you up after having to do so,” Osamu muses, “Whichever.”

“It’ll be the latter,” Acenath automatically mutters, barely refraining from groaning again when a blend of Captain Noble’s and the Grand Archivist’s scoldings echo in her head before curiosity overrides them both when Osamu sets a new book on the countertop near her ear. Her ear twitches on its own from the brush of Osamu’s hand, but then both her ears perk as she finally lifts her head. The book is only an inch thick, with a bright lavender cover that looks like well-maintained faux leather. Not an easy material to come by; at least not this quality. “What’s this?” she asks, gingerly brushing the cover with the pad of a finger. It’s soft.

“It’s the last edition of that fantasy novel you told me you liked,” Osamu says, her fin flicking while she spins the book with two fingers until it faces Acenath. “Quite the collector’s item—it hasn’t had new editions printed since Earth.”

Reverently Acenath picks up the book, barely even attempting to restrain the smile of awe that sprouts as she savors the texture of the faux leather and the rich scent of the paper pages. They must be at least a decade old. And to have survived the exodus… 

After gently thumbing the pages, she looks up at Osamu with bright eyes. “How much is this?”

Osamu grins, her peachy-red eyes glinting in amusement. “Normally I would price such a limited item at a good few thousand Pixels. But since you are such a regular customer…”

After a minute of discussion and playful haggling, Acenath purchases the novel for a fair discount. It still takes most of the Pixels she was reserving for non-research purposes, though. But as far as she’s concerned, it’s a worthy investment. Better than the…ah…“deal” she made the other day with those bandits Captain Noble was after. Besides, if anyone back home asks, she can always chalk it up to preserving an artifact from Earth.

Purchase in hand, Acenath all but skips to the little reading nook by Osamu’s bookstore. It’s a small room, barely any bigger than the stall itself, with the only furniture therein being a bookshelf packed with bright neon blue-and-magnets Orion technology manuals and codexes in the far corner, a small geometric couch in the near corner, and a small, inverted-triangle shaped desk next to it. A cardboard box, overflowing with books Osamu has yet to organize, keeps the door open, while a small plant tops the bookshelf and an antique bobble-head in the shape of a Human dancer adorns the desk. The blue-tinted window is open, allowing bright morning sunlight and a refreshing breeze from the city below fill the room. It’s simple, but it’s all it needs to be.

Content, Acenath shrugs her scholarly white jacket off and drapes it on the arm of the couch while she settles on it herself, novel safely held against her chest. And with no one to scold her for lack of decorum, she pulls her feet up, curls around the book, and loses herself in the pages. 

Sure, she has more meetings scheduled for later, plus a seminar to start planning for eventually. She’s going to have to start coalescing her notes for that at some point. But for now, those can wait. Time for a book.

#sbprompts23 #starbound fanfic #modded starbound #fanart and fic #arcana mod #I Was The Sun: Side Stories #Acenath

[mythrilpencil]

Petrichor (for prompt “Overgrown”)

Once again, for perhaps the fifth time this quarter, Acenath finds herself lost. After following her nose along a lovely trail of rumors and urban legends…she’s stranded.

At least it’s a nice planet this time, if a bit humid. SAIL claimed it’s a warm planet in the star’s Goldilocks Zone, and that the part of the world Acenath decided to beam to is in its dry season, but the moisture in the air is still more than a desert native like herself is used to. Not that she’s complaining—thicker, moist air makes it easier to smell things. Just makes her fur feel a bit damp.

Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea after all to follow those admittedly shady Humans’ claim about a signal booster over the hill. But they had been incredibly eager to help her out after her warp got thrown off-course by some weird signals…if only after she handed over a compact of Pixels she was planning on using to barter for something later on. At gunpoint. Yeah…probably not the best idea. Acenath can practically hear the Grand Archivist nagging her over her lack of foresight again. 

No matter, though. Acenath shakes her head, itches the premonition of the Grand Archivist’s voice out of her long ears, and takes a good look and sniff around. It’s nighttime currently, but the local star clusters above and glittering puddles of healing water below more than make up for the planet’s lack of natural satellites. So with her own flashlight and her natural low-light vision, navigation isn’t much of a chore. 

The ecosystem she finds herself in as she crests the hill is lovely: rolling plains absolutely covered in flowers still displaying their vibrant colors, even in the starlight; spiraling vines reaching to the stars with their leaves; the odd tree here and there standing like shepherds over their flocks of thriving shrubbery. All the pollen and scents of grass almost makes her sneeze, while the aroma of the healing water reminds her of the oases of home and almost draws her into a nostalgic lull. But beneath the fragrances is the scent she’s been looking for: a musty whiff, the smell of old stone and petrichor from eons past. To most it might be an unpleasant smell, or perhaps just dusty and uninteresting. But to Acenath, it’s a perfume most alluring.

Her ears perk as she swells with excitement, but she adjusts her large glasses and focuses on the whiff before the thrill can make her lose composure too much. It’s incredibly faint from where she is, but…

There! She finds the direction the whiff is strongest: just upwind and beyond the next hill. Like a silken thread, Acenath follows it, taking extra care to not step on the fragile flowers nor disturb the sleeping hypnares in the process. It takes more time than she would like to crest this next hill, particularly as the overpowering scent of ripe sugarcane nearly throws her off her desired musty trail, but finally she crests it.

And just past the hill is a strange tower. It’s not entirely unusual to find towers or other buildings on planets like this: the climate is conducive to many dominant species’ survival in most places, so it’s not uncommon to find dirt, wood, or even stone dwellings erected by a dwindled endemic civilization or even the passing interstellar traveler. 

But this tower is distinctively none of those. Acenath can tell that even from this far away. The stone that forms its walls, despite being a climbing surface for ages’ worth of local ivy and grasses, still absorbs and reflects the glow of the surrounding pond of healing water strangely. The tower’s structure is too square. Its angles are too perfect. And the blocks of stone are impeccably uniform save for the occasional engraving.

It’s not the biggest of towers. It doesn’t even reach higher than the hill. But it still has an imposing presence bigger than itself, especially when Acenath climbs down the hill and circles the tower’s base. Rubbles of a relatively newer structure—a mound of sorts supported by a few crumbling stone pillar; a ritualistic construction, or perhaps a burial site—flank the tower’s side. Normally the newer structures in an archaeological site are more preserved than the older ones. Here it’s the opposite. The tower stands as if untouched by time while rubble collects around it and nature grows atop it.

But despite its perfection, the building is not symmetrical: the south end of the building has a lower overhang like a balcony open to the air while the north end’s overhang is higher overhead and is enclosed. Two obelisks stand guard in front of either entrance, radiating a light from their peaks as warm as the noonday sun. It’s a small comfort, but it reminds Acenath of her home desert and that reminder isn’t one she finds often. She finds herself smiling a thank-you and bowing to the obelisks before moving past them to inspect the interior.

Inside the tower, strips of cold blue light, partially obscured by the overgrowth, run up the walls, paralleling the angular windows and framework in the corners. Acenath hovers her hand over the end of the light strip, but does not touch. Not that she needs to: the strips radiate a scent of ethereal ozone as much as they radiate a cracking, yet harmless atmosphere that makes her fur tingle and her breath catch in her throat. It’s an aura of mysterious arcane magics that not even the greatest Thaumaturges the Arcanians have to offer have been able to harness. 

Plenty of civilizations favor blue-ish lights—her own people included—but this kind of blue light, powered by this energy, is one she’s only identified one other place: the Ark, framing those ancient stairs and tracing that ancient dais. That alone, not even including the mysterious yet iconic engravings or distinctive architecture, identifies the creators of this tower beyond question:

The Ancients.

The Grand Archivist and some of Acenath’s peers often questioned her nigh-exclusive fascination with the Ancients. These structures seemingly from beyond time—from beyond space perhaps, given the Ancients’ apparent mastery over dimensional manipulation—are so unknowable that even decades of study may never be enough to decipher their secrets. But Acenath’s an archaeologist: adding her years of curiosity and drive to her people’s gradual study of the Ancients is her dream. She’s already uncovered more secrets and identified more trends about the Ancients and their culture than any of her peers and predecessors have ever managed; imagine what discoveries can be built upon hers going forward!

And despite her misgivings, even the Grand Archivist would have to admit the value in what Acenath is discovering, surely. The slit in the roof northward, an air vent, perhaps? Even the Ancients needed good air to breathe. And the writing on the walls, although not any of the symbols Acenath has come to recognize, perhaps are claims to the Ancient’s history? Or marks left by the builders to identify themselves? It’s an incredibly common practice, she’s found, for the Ancients to leave uncountable engravings on their walls. Not the graffiti sort of mark, nor a tribal patterning like the Floran’s. 

Acenath makes sure to scan the unique markings and save them to her ever-growing database before moving on.

And these pots, tucked away in the corners. Oh, if only Acenath could take them home to her museum for study! But she is afraid to even touch them for fear of damaging these precious artifacts; even cupping her hands around the smallest is enough to make her bite her lip and wish she could will her heart to stop racing so much—she’s almost shaking the tiny pot. Taking them with her isn’t an option here. But the fact that the Ancients even had such pots, in a number of intricate styles that Acenath has been able to map like anyone else would map out styles by period, shows they had a thriving culture. A history. Needs and wants. Art.

Things worth preserving and studying.

And that’s not even considering the raw power the Ancients had access to. Even the Grand Archivist has to admit that studying the Ancients and their mastery over what their people deemed the arcane is vastly important. Any discovery Acenath makes in that sphere can have massive implications. It already has. Connecting the Ancients’ essence to the Astral essence suffusing the Arcanians’ home worlds…

Acenath shivers from the thrill at the thought.

Or…perhaps from the chill in the air.

A few droplets of water peck her head and make her ear twitch while she’s studying the triangular windows, thoroughly derailing her train of thought and making her blink at the sky.

The sun is rising, its light tinted a deep scarlet by the gathering clouds. What few rays of dawn manage to pierce the clouds, however briefly, disperse into streaks in the rain.

Looks like Acenath is stuck here until the rain passes.

Sure, she’s in her field outfit, complete with a Havencrest-peach jumper and faux-leather boots specifically treated to be hydrophobic and easy to clean. And the rain gifts the lush environment around her with the delightful scent of life and water…

But Acenath really doesn’t favor getting soaked at the moment.

So instead she sits under the northern overhang, just past the threshold, near the obelisk shining outwards. She’s in no hurry to get home right now. The more she studies the Ancients, the more they feel like home, anyways.

…Although she still has to figure out how to warp back to her ship. Ah, she’ll get to that later.

#sbprompts23 #starbound #starbound fanfic #modded starbound #starbound fanart #digital art #one shot #acenath #yayyy tumblr’s working now! #thanks support #fanfic #I Was The Sun: Side Stories #my art #artists on tumblr

[druidx]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag, @dirty-bosmer!

Tagging back: @aalinaaaaaa @thewriteflame @wildswrites @aquadestinyswriting @artdecosupernova-writing @autumnalwalker @blind-the-winds @eli-writes-sometimes @hannahcbrown @oh-no-another-idea @rhikasa @swordsoulwrites @winglesswriter @andromeda-grace @writingmaidenwarrior @wispstalk

This is from an as-yet-untitled Starbound fanfic. An ash storm has descended on the place Mio's visiting. Everyone is sheltering, but one woman is missing...

My radio chirped. "Captain Mio, your guide is correct: it is much too dangerous for you to attempt this rescue." "I have one canister of burn spray, a green stim, and the healing nanites in the EEP. I'll be fine." "I calculate a 79.3% chance that the wife is already dead. There is a 30.45% chance that you will also be injured, should you go after her. The odds are not in your favour, and rapidly decreasing." "I'd best get a move on then." "Captain, please consider the bigger picture. Your task is to kill the Ruin. With respect, it is not your job to save these people." "No? Who's job is it then? Who else is going to go out there and find this woman? Damnit, SAIL, this is why I joined the Academy, to help people. I am a Protector; I am going to protect them." "Mio, this is highly inadvisable." "Warning acknowledged and dismissed," I said, hauling open the door.

#writing #starbound #starbound fanfic #starbound fanfiction #wandering words

[hangon-silvergirl]

Hello! What are some of your hellcheer fic recs?

Hi! I had really good intentions for putting together a succinct list when I started responding to this, but I tripped and wrote a Hellcheer fanfic compendium instead, apparently.

This is a (non-exhaustive) list of completed Hellcheer fics that I love, and is the result of a two and a half hour trip down memory lane. If I've missed an author's tumblr please let me know!

Some of these stories may contain themes/content/tropes that are not your jam. Please read their tags before jumping in!

So, without further ado, in no particular order:

Never Seem to Find the Time by JuliaBrownen

oh it's not real (if you don't feel it) by BeeLove

where the streets have no name by @alltheseghosttowns

more by 71degreesout

aesthetic chills by @sloelimbs

and the twain were casting dice by @the-reylo-void

warm, sold things by @carry-the-sky

Both Alike in Dignity by @astorytotellyourfriends

the light, the heat by @cyraclove

they'll never know by hawkinshellfire

graceland too (whatever she wants) by @cunnninghams

Linger by CircusBones

You've Got Nothing to Lose by @viharker

reality & other highs by @chrissy-n-eddie

Chrissy & Eddie's Infinite Mixtape by @little-scribblers-heart

you really got me now. by melodicvinyl

don't say yes, run away now by @blondiest

i don't know if i could ever go without (watermelon sugar high) by @cricketsatnight

your turn to roll by mrsren

Alive and Kicking by FrostedGemstones22

put your lips close to mind, as long as they don't touch by @percyjacksonfan3

the answers seem so clear by agents_cxrter

twenty-one rules by elanor_gamgee

like a heartbeat drives you mad by redbelles

Gateway Drug by oponn

WAKE 86.9 by TheRookieKing412

Hobbit Birthdays by PlotWeaver

take a chance on me by WomanOf1000Faces

mixtape by @ivy-eyed

until you kill all my prints by silvermarie

Tattooed on my Heart by VPD2396

Camellia by @nevermorered

The Third Date Rule by InvalidUser1D

Loser Kid by @lokinightfury

you are the music in me by fkevino73

like hands that tick on a clock by @eddiemunsvn

she's so sweet with her get back stare by @theheart-isanarrow

Ride the Sky by Deathinasmalltown

Didn't Mean to Scare You by its_kira

Open Your Eyes by @natliecole

Of Dio, Billy Joel, and Vandalism by @shroomystar

For Whom the Bell Tolls by memequeen1127

all the missing girls are hanging out without us by greatunironic

haunted house with a picket fence by @wndasmaximoffs

someone reaching back for me by @enoughtotemptme

You make me the best kind of nervous, pretty sure you do that shit on purpose… by @phoenixwrites

alexa, play "she bop" by cyndi lauper by @majicmarker

she's under me and i'm not stopping by @majicmarker

she’s a hardcore candy-store give-me-some-more girl by @majicmarker

you'll need me now, i'll teach you how by @majicmarker (honestly, anything by Maj, I am thinking of starting a fan club)

Waiting on Satan's Call by @broomclosetkink

Duality by @broomclosetkink

It's different for girls by @adelaideelaine

Tenderness by @adelaideelaine

The shop around the corner by @adelaideelaine

Red Light Green Light by @idontgettechnology

You drew stars around my scars by @idontgettechnology

The Devil's Backbone by Maebe

You Got Me? I Got You. by Maebe

trailing stars behind us by @hearjessroar

come on pretty baby (kiss me deadly) by @hearjessroar

heavy metal hung from clotheslines by @hearjessroar

preach electric to a microphone by @hearjessroar

i was thursday's child by @agentmmayy

he's got that special somethin' by @agentmmayy

if there's nothing left for you here honey (then there's nothing for me) by @agentmmayy

Dirtbag by @bettsfic

sick part of a sick thing by @bettsfic

No One Like You by QuestionableCovariates

Burden of Proof by QuestionableCovariates

Bonus! Some excellent series (which also largely contain completed stories):

the 'first one's free to get you hooked' series by @uwusillygirl

the 'man to man' series by @bratanimus

the 'mixtape' series by @majicmarker

the 'self-taught learner' series by @adelaideelaine

the 'five drunks & a cheerleader' series by @phoenixwrites

the 'lay beside me, under wicked sky' series by @glitterslag

#hellcheer #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer fanfiction #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #fanfic recs #hellcheer fanfic recs #ask alie #starbound-wanderer

[nyotasaimiri]

I was incorrect: my novel is available now. Mum ordered a copy through Amazon and it arrived last night.

I don’t have words for how it feels to hold something I wrote. This beast is 613 pages and that’s absolutely absurd, and I’m proud beyond thoughts to open it up to any page and see my story, my characters.

If you see this, please reblog it. Absolutely no pressure to get a copy, but I want to prove that fanfiction can go as far as it darn well wants. Seven years ago I wrote a fanfiction about the game Starbound and now I’m holding that novel in my hands.

This wouldn’t have happened without you, my readers. Thank you.

[Image ID: a hand holding a copy of a novel titled As Long As We Remember. The title text is orange block letters. The cover art depicts a woman standing in front of a carved stone gate under a black and starry sky]

#starbound #writers on tumblr #debut novel #as long as we remember #fanfiction #fanfic

[narsus-travel-logs]

Initializing...

Checking core systems...

Launching bootup...

Checking S.A.I.L. essential files...

BOOTUP COMPLETE.

Welcome, user @%#!.

It would appear the S.A.I.L. user interface program has been corrupted. Reconstructing...

You are required to input a new username.

Name: Asher Narsus

Welcome, Captain Narsus.

Engine status: critical. Immediate repairs required.

FTL drive status: inoperable. Complete replacement required.

Ship Teleporter: online.

We are currently in orbit of a hospitable planet. I have calculated a 96% chance of resources necessary for repairs existing on this planet.

>Access Personal network

ENTRY#1

Well... shit. Isn't this just fun. After sitting in this claustrophobic ship for about an hour and crying a locker-full of tears, i've decided to, for my own sanity, keep track of anything that has happened to me - should anyone ever find a wreckage of my ship or somehow access this network.

My name is Asher Narsus. This is my story.

I was born on an Apex Colony planet - much like any other apex outside of Terrane Protectorate authority. I lived my life under constant fear of scrutiny, assault, violation of my basic apehood, and much worse. Despite keeping to myself and not interacting with anyone outside of necessity, i was eventually arrested by the Miniknog for deviant and antisocial behavior. I was later told it was actually because i was a mutant and had to be euthanized. In a society full of apes, the monkey among gorillas is the one that needs to be put down... alright. Sure. Anyways, i was sitting in my cell, waiting to be executed, when i heard a series of explosions and gunshots. The resistance busted me out. Not to recruit me, not because i was important - because they just wanted to. Out of the goodness of their heart, they released me from my jail cell and were guiding me to an escape ship. I'm the only one on board of this ship. They all died protecting me.

To say I feel guilty would be an understatement. 5 apes gave their life for mine. They gave me a chance to finally present the way i want to, to live the life i am entitled to. But it doesn't change that important apes died to give me this. I'm no one. Nothing. I'm just a dysfunctional monkey who doesn't even [DATA EXPUNGED. ENTRY EDITED BY SYSTEM ADMIN 1 HOUR AGO.] Fuck it. Whatever. I'm gonna learn to live with all of this one way or another. There's only enough canned food in here for a month, and i need to fix this ship, or find someone who can, before i die hungry.

I'm going down to that planet below the ship. I've got a gun, enough energy rounds to last me a while, a sturdy enough staff and martial arts training to keep me alive. I'm configuring a communicator to link with S.A.I.L.'s personal network so i can continue to take notes without having to warp up and down. This is my only chance, and I'm taking it. If not for myself, for my brothers and sisters slain by those monsters to give me this chance. I don't know what I'm walking into - could be a populated planet, could be entirely devoid of sapient life. I'm willing to take that risk.

Well. Here goes nothing. Signing off for the day.

#starbound #fanfic #travel log #starboundapex

[gergthecat]

PSA

If anyone (especially moots) wants to send me an ask with a fic request, I would be more than happy to write it!!

I don’t just write AC (contrary to popular belief), and I’ll write for pretty much any book or other media that I have consumed.

What I really need is prompts because I AM OUT OF IDEAS.

#gergthecattalks #fanfic #please send me ideas #I’m talking to u #yes u #like #I’ll write tig #or the legend series #or #idk #icebreaker #or tfota #I love tfota #or fourth wing maybeeeeeee #or warcross #i ljve warcross #or shatter me #shatter me is POOKIE #i love aaron #or any Amie Kaufman book #that includes the starbound trilogy #or fucking #who knows #Nancy drew #i guess #yeah #or the Aurora cycle #I’ll always write ac but give me prompts plssss

[craftykit]

#Image ID #sorry if the ids are missing some details #the text limit annoys me #the webber and wx one was based on a fanfic actually. but i didn't finish it completely #OC Sentry #OC Winfrey #dst oc #wx-78 #wx78 #don't starve #dst #dont starve together #starbound #starbound glitch #traditional art #artists on tumblr #Fanart #tbt

[sedgesnuggles]

I’m writing yet another crossover fic because I have no self control

Help me (make this thing awesome)

#writing #fanfic #fanfiction #starbound #botw #crossover #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

[ghostly-alex]

I had an idea for an hermitcraft x starbound au and it has been plaging my mind ever since. PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE AU IDEA I CAN'T DO THIS NOW

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft x starbound #hermitcraft au #I have some of the starting ideas and what species some of the hermits would be #but I'm busy with school #and trying to write a fanfic for other fandom #I don't have the time rn

[dru-plays-starbound]

An Ancient Vault

"Ocean Tides, SAIL! I'm about ready to pack this in," I complained as I walked along the dusty surface of the planet. "I've been walking for ages. There's nothing here! " "I assure you, Captain, my scans are picking up an intermittent, anomalous signal. You are almost there." I looked up from the datapad, scanning the barren horizon. Nothing moved. Nothing called. Only the ever-soughing wind was present, moving dust into dunes, eating the rock away into eerie formations. "Better start running that bath, SAI-" My speech cut off into a scream as the sand beneath me gave way.

I tumbled, clawing at the sinkhole, SAIL's voice panicked in my ear. Then the light of the scanner caught the flicker of ground, rushing up to meet me. I activated my jump Tech on instinct, landing with a minor fumble. "Mi…! Ca…tin! D… you re…?" Static cut in and out as SAIL called out over the comms. "…io! Ar… kay?" "SAIL?" I tapped at the comm unit. It didn't seem broken, and SAIL could usually reach me no matter the depth. Something must be causing interference. "SAIL I'm fine. Repeat: I'm fine! I'm fine…" My voice trailed off as I looked around. Small yellow globes bobbed in the air, casting pale illumination around the cave I found myself in.

I'd fallen between twin pillars of dark stone. I ran my hands over the surface, the dust giving way to carvings. Some strange light – that same buttercream brightness – flickered from within. Why did these carvings seem so familiar? I looked around the pillars. In the gloom to the back of the cave, I could make out sparks of magenta and cyan. I turned. Behind me, looming out of the darkness, was a broken pillar. In the distance, a pale purple orb seemed to float above head height.

I glanced up, shielding my eyes from the dribbles of dust still falling. A hatch in the roof stood open. I blinked. It must have sensed my presence, and when it opened, the sand above fell through, causing the sinkhole. As long as the hatch stayed open, getting out should be no problem with my spike Tech.

I looked around again. This must be what SAIL's scans picked up. I dusted myself down. May as well have a look around, since I was here…

Built & written for the September monthly prompt, "Ancient".

Mods used: Idle Factories, nuggubs’ Mega Mod, Admin commands

#starbound #starbound build #Dru builds #sbprompts23 #starbound fanfic #starbound fanfiction #wandering words

[scout-company]

Atlas—Chapter 6: USCM Penal Colony

Scout has to really try to not touch any of the goopy mud at the top of the hill. The mud coats more than she expected, and as she and Alice climb to the top, it covers most of the easy handholds.

“Ew…” Scout fizzles when her left hand accidentally touches a mud-slicked stone. Even though her sense of touch is dulled through the composite material of her prosthetic, the mud is still cold and slick under her hand. And it sticks to her fingers like thick, clingy slime. “This mess is nasty. Almost as bad as tar.”

“It is tar,” Alice notes quietly, carefully avoiding the worst of the mud herself while she peeks over the hill, “Partly, anyways. Mixed with mud. The prospector says this area’s riddled with tar pits.”

“Nasty,” Scout buzzes again, doing her best to shake the gunk off. It helps that a combination of the sun’s heat and Scout’s own heat makes the stuff softer and more willing to shake off. Still leaves her fingers sticky. She shakes off as much as the tar-mud as she can, then starts to peek over the hill at the building compound ahead. “How folks over here can stand livin’ ‘round this mess is beyond me—!” she starts to say, only to slip into a startled whistle when Alice grabs the hem of her shirt and yanks her back down. She flares with a crackle and sparks as she regains her balance, “Alice, what the heck was that for?!”

“They’ll spot you like that!” she hisses back, intensity of her frown deepening even as she lowers her volume and hovers even closer to the hill. 

“They ain’t gonna spot me. I was just—”

Alice’s expression flattens as she counters, “Scout, you glow.”

“An’ it’s almost midday,” Scout points out, pointing at the sun almost directly above them with a finger and an upwards nod, “I may be bright, but I ain’t that bright. I ain’t gonna stand out till sundown. Besides,” she adds as she peeks back over the hill at the compound, “There ain’t anybody to see us right now.”

Alice’s brows knot a bit as she starts to argue, “But they usually have someone on…” But then she cuts herself off when she peeks back over the hill herself, fading to a soft, “Huh.”

All of the buildings in the compound ahead of them have flat roofs with short walls. The building closest to the hill has a long, fenced-off pathway feeding to a front gate, and the roof of that building is entirely flat except for a single short tower in the corner. Compared to the rest of the buildings, it’s squat. And it’s completely empty. 

Alice starts to mutter, “Where did they…?”

But Scout scrambles to her feet before Alice can finish, urging her on with a light swat to her shoulder and a pop, “Maybe they’re takin’ a siesta. C’mon, let’s scoot before they show face.”

Quietly the two of them make their way down the steep hill towards the compound. If there’s one good thing about the tar-mud, it’s that it makes less noise than parched, bone-ridden sand and it makes it easy to slide down the hill. 

The building in front of them is tall and cold and uncaringly square. Despite being as colorless as the rest of the overall desert, it drains what little vibrancy tries to pop up around it. The tar pit it sits in doesn’t help. 

There’s a sign just in front of the fenced pathway, standing guard just before the compound’s stone foundation juts out of the mud. Its base is the same stone as the rest of the foundation; the rest of it is a paler stone more native to the area. Some of the cracks and scuffs show its age as signs of time; the rest of the cracks are signs of violence. 

“Looks like a grand gravestone,” Scout hums grimly as she studies the sign. There’s large letters carved into its face, but they’re in a language Scout can’t read. She can tell it’s not written in the same writing all over the Outpost, but that’s the most she can parse. 

Alice sticks closely behind Scout, pointedly staying away from the sign even as she reads aloud, “USCM Penal Colony.” She shudders.

Scout glances over her shoulder at her. “USCM?” she echoes, “What’s that?”

“Some sort of…old army or something from Earth,” Alice mutters, tilting a shoulder in half a shrug while tugging anxiously at her shirt. “I only ever heard stories. None of them pleasant.”

Scout gives a long, soft whistle as she mentally files that note away. “Fun,” she drawls.

Alice agrees with a grim hum, her lips pressed together into a tight line as she casts one last look at the sign, then tears her eyes away.

Scout waves her onward, stepping up to the stone foundation while drawing her dagger. 

For whatever reason, there’s no gate at the beginning of the pathway. Instead they’re funneled onwards by walls of thick, chain link fence and by barbed wire looming above like withered, wickedly twisted vines. The metal glitters in the sunlight like cold ice while glittering in Scout’s light like lava. 

The only gate is a thick metal door embedded into the stone wall of the building proper. It’s nearly as worn as the rest of the place, with a section of its rightmost edge polished by repeated touch. Despite the wear, though, it gives slightly when Scout pushes on it, and after a minute of pushing at different angles, she manages to push it sideways along its sliding track. A slight grind and suck of air from old pneumatic systems announces her success, loud enough she and Alice freeze for several moments. But the only sounds Scout can hear are distant echoes of people doing their own thing, voices and laughs distorted by hundreds of stone blocks in stars know how many walls. Plus the incessant wailing of a siren, but it didn’t start when she pushed the door open, and it doesn’t freak out when she peeks in. Looks like they’re clear.

Scout quietly presses her way onwards, signaling for Alice to follow closely with a small wave of her fingers.

This whole place feels eerie. The weight of the stone building compresses the tension right on Scout’s head as if it’s an artificial cave. More of those huge, blocky letters are written across the wall of the entrance hall they pass through, the cracking white paint catching the blinking red light of the alarm in the corner. The alarm’s light keeps flickering off-tempo with its blinks—must have been going for so long it’s wearing out. 

Alice shudders behind Scout’s shoulder when they both glance at the huge letters, and Scout realizes they’re the same letters engraved on the sign outside. Huh.

Aside from the alarm and the letters, the entrance hall is completely empty safe for the gate at the other end. And it’s an actual gate door this time—made of thick, crossed metal bars, some of them starting to rust in the corners. Carefully Scout approaches the door and peers past the bars at the foyer-like space beyond.

There’s a few benches along the walls, along with a space that looks like a bench had once sat there but had been torn out at some point, with discolored stone and more than a few deep scratch marks. A vending machine sits in front of one of the large metal-plated support pillars embedded into the walls, slightly off-kilter in comparison to the clinically straight grid of stone tiles in the floor. Someone probably dragged the vending machine in and left it there.

Scout almost tries to wiggle the door to see which way it wants to open. But then footsteps echo from above, getting closer.

Alice gasps while Scout sparks and they both duck back, pressing against the wall as much as they can. The footsteps tap in slow, meandering beats, accompanied by slurring, horribly off-key humming. First on stone, then on old metal. Each footstep on the metal sends rattling echoes through the place, but the person humming doesn’t sound like they care. They’re just humming away, their notes slurring together into songs Scout can’t decide whether or not she even wants to make heads or tails of. Even when they mumble actual words aloud, they’re in a language Scout doesn’t understand and her translator doesn’t catch enough to translate. But still they continue in a sloppy, rough tenor. 

Until they stop. 

Warily Scout inches her head around the doorframe and catches a glimpse of worn black shoes, belonging to someone in bright orange pants, partially down the stairs closest to the entrance. They shift in place a bit, swinging a weapon of some sort barely into and out of view. They harrumph and start to mutter, barely coherently enough for Scout’s translator to relay, “One of these days I’m gonna…Huh? What the—Oi, who left the light on out front?”

Shoot. 

As soon as they grunt louder and scurry down the stairs, Scout crackles and ducks. Her light got spotted.

She barely thinks when the person—a Human man, scruffy and with wild eyes and an oversized hammer—comes down the stairs and races towards the door. She barely registers his bark at her. As soon as the guy’s in range, she stabs her dagger into the lock and shoves forward. 

The door slamming into the guy’s hammer doesn’t do much to slow him down. But it gives Scout just enough of an opening to rush past.

Again that instinct takes over, and Scout barely registers ducking under the man’s hammer, her dagger catching his arm. She registers him staggering back briefly enough to send him backwards again with a kick. He shouts something, her translator relays it as a call for help. More footsteps start clambering into indistinct echoes from further in the compound.

The man swings again, and Scout ducks away and lets him knock himself over from the momentum. Before he can recover, Scout jumps onto his upper back, holding onto his shoulder with one hand while hovering her dagger near his neck—not close enough to cut, but close enough for him to see the blade poised like a scorpion.

“Oi! Get off, you cricket!” the man barks, starting to scramble to his feet.

“Where’s the goods y’all stole?” Scout sparks back.

“Who do you think you are?!”

Alice answers for her with a shrill, “Scout!”

Scout snaps her head up as the gate on the far side of the foyer slams open, the sound of rickety metal against stone rattling the air before gunshots pierce it. More Humans—each wearing the same kind of orange jumper in varying states of disarray—storm through, weapons akimbo. 

The man Scout is perched on staggers to his feet; Scout wobbles and barely keeps her grip. But as he tries to raise his hammer, Scout yanks his collar and herself to the side, throwing him off-balance as a shower of bullets zip by. One, two, graze Scout’s arms and corona. One glances off her dagger. One hits the man in the shoulder as Scout yanks him sideways.

He disappears from under her feet in a burst of blue light, cutting his cry of pain short.

“What the—?!” Scout crackles as she tumbles. She shoots Alice a glance and flares, “What was that?! I didn’t—”

“H-he must’ve had a respawn beacon,” Alice stutters between breaths as she rushes to Scout’s side, tugging on her shirt to pull her to her feet.

More gunshots and battle cries cut through the air before Alice can say anything else. Her eyes are already wide, but they shoot even wider as Scout grabs her arm and rushes forward. 

Scout ducks under incoming bullets, tugging Alice with her. “Let’s just find them goods and scram!” she declares over Alice’s yelp. “I’m gettin’ the feeling we ain’t wanted!”

“You think!?”

~~~~~

<< Previous || Next >>

#starbound fanfic #starbound #starbound novakid #fanfic #I Was The Sun #Atlas

[mythrilpencil]

Stellar Acclimation—Chapter 1: Unfamiliar Stars

The world around Scout is blurry as she slowly comes to. Blurry and far too bright. Very bright. Everything hurts. Ow….

Sunlight from an unfamiliar star filters through what might be a window above her head. It blooms far too brightly and illuminates enough dust in the air to blind her for several long seconds. But then she realizes that there’s something soft under her. Soft and a bit plush but hiding thousands of pokes. She would shift to try and push the pokes down but she’s too tired to bother.

Gradually Scout also realizes that there’s…wood above her head? She’s in some sort of small shack or something; a few wooden beams criss-cross along the ceiling, propping up some sort of beige brick. She only barely registers that she’s laying down after she half-contemplates trying to touch the low ceiling.

Why’s she in a shack? It’s warm and dusty and the middle of the day, but the last thing she remembers is…

Actually she can’t remember. Where was she just now? Before the shack? Can’t have been the shack, right? Why can’t she remember?

A shiver ripples through Scout’s plasma as a thought eats at her core. Maybe she’s dead. Or was just dead and is somehow not dead. Is being dead supposed to hurt?

Because everything still hurts. The shudder pings sharp feedback through Scout’s brand and makes her fizzle with pain. Which only sends more pain through her brand. And makes the sunlight feel even more bright.

Owwww…..

Something stirs near Scout’s head. Focusing on anything takes a huge effort, but after a moment she discerns…is that a face? Someone’s hovering over her head. Big nose, huge eyes, curly mauve fur everywhere but his face. He says something, but the words don’t register and the low frequencies of his voice make Scout wince.

The furry guy frowns when Scout doesn’t answer whatever his question was. He studies her for a moment—why does he keep glancing down her—before turning around and grunting something. Someone else is in there?

Scout tries to move, to turn her head and look at whoever the furry guy is talking to, but even the effort of moving her shoulder or turning her head makes the world ignite in pain again. Now her head feels dizzy and light as she wilts back into the almost-plush pillow she finally registers is under her head.

Low frequencies of hard footsteps on soft wood pierce through the haze enough for Scout to make herself try and focus again. This time to find a silvery metal head looking over her. The metal man has nothing on his head except for two domed plates over where ears might be on a different creature. He has a screen with two red rectangles for eyes in the middle of his face, and as he looks over her those rectangles narrow. Eventually he looks at her face and says, “Gentle. Are you awake?” His voice is a good deal quieter than the furry guy’s, but it’s tinny and still makes Scout wince.

Scout barely finds enough energy to mumble a blurry, “Yeah…”

The metal man’s eyes narrow a bit more, and his head tilts. What’s that supposed to mean? He shares a glance with the furry guy, who mutters, “What did she say?”

Scout bubbles blearily. But when the metal man shrugs and mutters back, “Bewildered. I don’t know. I don’t recognize that language,” she realizes that they’re speaking a different language. A round and soft, yet choppy and simple language that she somehow still understands. 

So dully she makes herself switch languages and repeat, “Yeah… ‘m awake… I think.” She’s distantly aware that her words are slurring together worse than someone who has just downed one too many swigs, but spacing words out takes energy she doesn’t have.

But still her answer makes the furry guy blink and bounce his shoulders with a surprised huff. “Oh! She does understand Common,” he grunts quietly. Then he leans forward, scooting whatever he’s sitting on towards her—making a gosh-awful grinding sound for a moment in the process—and asks, “How’re you feeling, then?” 

Scout buzzes quietly until the pain from the noise dies down and she can gather enough energy for words again. “Ow,” she fizzes, “You…sure I ain’t dead?”

A corner of the furry guy’s lip curls upwards in what’s probably supposed to be a friendly expression as he rumbles with a laugh, “No, you aren’t dead, fortunately. Nearly were, though,” he adds with a glance at the metal man.

“Wh…Whaddya mean?”

“Informed. Semyon found you just outside of town,” the metal man says, gesturing to the furry guy—guess his name’s Semyon, “Apparently you had just beamed down and were severely wounded.”

Scout’s plasma dims warily. “I what now?” she mumbles. Alarm and curiosity bubble a churning ripple through her plasma, somehow possessing her despite the pain and making her attempt to sit up. Her attempt doesn’t last long. She only manages to slip her right elbow under herself before her attempt to balance caves as she finds nothing supporting her left side. The metal man’s warning and Semyon’s alarm go unheard through the sharp spark and drone that escapes her as she flops back onto the bed. Nothing exists for a moment except pain reverberating through her brand and plasma and back again.

After a small star-filled eternity Scout barely registers a thick hand steadying her right shoulder and Semyon’s worried voice urging, “M-maybe don’t try to sit up just yet, ok? Not without help.”

“Clinical. You’ve lost a significant percentage of your plasma already. Sitting up right now would only cause you more pain,” the metal man adds.

Scout groans a long wave of static that bubbles through her chest. Which only makes more pain feedback through her brand. And as the worst of the blinding pain calms down, she dully realizes the rest of it still clutching to her back and left side. As well as a secure pressure wrapped around her middle and left shoulder. She gathers enough strength to at least lift her head and look at whatever is wrapped around her. 

And finds a lot of bright blue bandaging. It’s wrapped clear around her torso and even loops around her shoulder. Or the space her left shoulder should be.

She sparks with alarm and demands, “Wh—what in tarnation? What happened to my arm?!”

“Whoa! Calm down!” Semyon quickly urges, gently pushing down on her right shoulder until the sudden surge of energy leaves Scout wilting back into the pillow like a sad candle. “W-we don’t actually know. We’ve just done what we can for you, ok? Bronzemarch?” he then grunts almost pleadingly with an aside glance at the metal man. Bronzemarch. Whatever his name is.

“Expectant. We were hoping you would tell us what happened,” he gently notes. He pulls out a small tablet from the pocket of the trousers he’s wearing and scans whatever’s on its screen with his rectangle eyes narrowed almost to slits.

Scout just fizzes wearily, “How do y’all…expect me to know that.”

Bronzemarch’s eyes affect a frown. “Concerned. Do you not remember anything about the event?”

“…No…”

“Cautious. What is the last thing you do remember?”

Scout lays there for a long moment, straining to focus. Beyond the wood and brick and loose strands of thatch here and there above her head, beyond the strangers next to her…the only thing coming to mind is distant stars. Twinkling away like they’re outstretched hands trying to bring her home. Wherever that is.

Eventually the image of the stars fades, leaving a gaping empty feeling inside Scout, and not just because of low plasma or a missing arm. 

The wind outside whistles for her, punctuated by the sound of heavy fabric flapping. A few moments later Bronzemarch makes a sound like a recorded sigh and taps his tablet. “Diffusing. Let’s back up a bit, then. What’s your name?”

Scout gathers her focus back enough to register his voice and respond, “Scout.”

Tap tap tap. A sharp noise of metal on plastic but dull enough to not make her brand hurt too much. “Patient. Do you know what the date is, currently?”

“No…?”

More taps. “Pensive. Interesting,” Bronzemarch mutters.

Low frequencies of voices register, but for a moment Scout almost thinks they’re coming from Semyon grunting words she doesn’t understand. But when both Semyon and Bronzemarch glance up at the window above Scout, and when a shadow interrupts the stream of sunlight coming through, she realizes the voices are coming from outside.

And Bronzemarch and Semyon seem to recognize them. Bronzemarch’s eyes narrow to annoyed slits and his shoulders sag for the first time Scout’s seen him. “Exasperated. Semyon, go tell them to back off,” he sighs, “They’re being disruptive again.”

Semyon nods and stands up, backing up what Scout now registers is a stool from her bed and quickly striding out one of the shack’s two doors. He closes the door gently enough, but his footsteps are still heavy and the low frequencies of his bark at whoever is outside still pierce. Scout winces.

Meanwhile Bronzemarch’s shoulders continue to sag a bit as he shakes his head and says, “Weary. Sorry about that. A couple of the other townsfolk here get…a bit nosy, shall we say.”

Scout would laugh if she had an ounce more energy left over. But as it is her plasma just bubbles a bit in tired amusement. “S’alright,” she manages, “…Where is ‘here,’ anyhow?”

Bronzemarch slips his tablet back into the pocket of his trousers and brushes a wrinkle out of his black tunic as he glances at the window. “Cordial. We call this place ‘Haven Valley.’ Amused. I will admit it’s a better name than my first idea,” he muses with a short chuckle. A dull flop registers as thick fabric now blocks all the sunlight coming through the window, making Scout’s dull plasma illuminate the room like a candle in its stead. 

As he starts to walk to a corner of the shack occupied by a small work table decked with vials and jars of stuff Scout doesn’t recognize and doesn’t have the energy to focus on, he tells her, “Advising. You should try and get some rest, Scout. Your body needs time to regenerate the plasma you’ve lost. Patient. If you get hungry or need something, you can let either me or Semyon know. One of us will remain in here at all times until your condition improves.”

Rest sounds good. Scout dully fizzes against the sleep already trying to take her. Stars are already trying again to fill her mind. “Ok…” she eventually mumbles. “‘Night…Bronze-head.”

She doesn’t fully register what his reply is before sweet, painless stars take her.

~~~~~

<<Previous || Next>>

#starbound fanfic #starbound #starbound novakid #fanfic #I Was The Sun

[druidx]

OC Name Meanings Tag Game

Thanks for the tag, @aquadestinyswriting :D

Rules: Put down an OC or more and tell what their name means.

Tagging: @wildswrites @aalinaaaaaa @thewriteflame @aquadestinyswriting @artdecosupernova-writing @autumnalwalker @blind-the-winds @eli-writes-sometimes @hannahcbrown @oh-no-another-idea @rhikasa @swordsoulwrites @winglesswriter @andromeda-grace @writingmaidenwarrior

Hi, yes, still thinking about my Starbound blorbos.

Starbound has a pool of name to select the procedurally generated NPCs from. I know that the Human names are very Americanised and the Hylotl names are very Japanised, so I suspect these will have findable meanings. However the Avian, Floran and others may not, so I'll make something up for those 😉️

The name-picker has chosen the below for this game:

Xictli

According to Nahuatl Dictionary, 'xictli' translates to 'navel' or 'umbilical cord', and according to the Embassy of Mexico in Australia, it can also mean 'center'.

So spinning up a headcanon, 'xictli' is the name given to a middle child, who is expected to help hold the family together.

Fife

'Fife' is the name of a place is Scotland, apparently named itself from the pictish legend, Fib, of whom a 15mins search couldn't tell me much about except that he was a chieftain's son and a warrior.

So to the far future humanity, Fife means someone who's strong, brave, and a survivor.

Kata

Kata is a short form of a variant of Katherine. It seems it doesn't have a concrete meaning or etymology; meaning include 'one of two', 'my consecration of your name', 'pure' or 'torture'.

Again, spinning up a headcanon of far-flung humanity, 'Kata' is sometimes given to a twin (with a different variant like 'Trina' given to the other child), especially if one of the twins doesn't make it.

George

From the Greek, γεωργός (georgos), meaning 'farmer, earthworker'.

For future humanity, George takes on the meaning ' hard working, diligent, and vigorous'.

#meta writing #oc names #tag game #starbound #starbound fanfic #starbound fanfiction #meta wandering words #If any of my starbound mutes want me to tag them in these type of game LMK

[nedayisonline]

Add a random anon to the pile of people who're curious to read your fanfic ideas! Your theories sound very interesting and Big Ape (Apex in general) don't get enough attention.

Prepare for a journey to the days of Enraged Koala, Back then the story was a bit more mysterious, with 3 individuals mentioned several times in codexes in on a grand conspiracy. The original Big Ape was actually just a bigger apex than normal that brute-forced his way into power, the next one was a floran scientist called Greenfinger, which eventually became the name of the floran tribe leaders that can encourage plant growth. And the final one is a bit more mysterious I can't find anything on, Thornwing. An avian I've only seen referenced as a big business guy lmao.

Anyways, in the Extended Universe Story that I've been trying to write for Skybound, I wanted the Apex to play a decent role and I wanted to include those 3 into the story working with a 4th person who at the time of writing this nobody will know about for a while. Big Ape after being confronted and beaten would upload his consciousness into a computer and begin a plan to try and take over the galaxy with robotized apex soldiers that he can control but it ultimately gets shut down when they pull the plug on his power supply on the main Miniknog base planet shutting him offline for good ending the reign of Big Ape.

Anyways, this will lead into the next part with Greenfinger and a mysterious Agaran threat... (yes I mean the mushroom people)

I can make a post about the Agaran threat or the little I can scrape together that's left on the long history of the internet if you would all like to see that. In the complete story I am taking ideas from Frackin Universe, Beta Starbound, the Official release, and Return to Earth because all of them have amazing ideas I'd like to share in some way or another!

This is all also very dumbed down and doesn't go in-depth on a lot of details, it's just a rough summary of what I have planned! I was thinking about making it a tumblr web comic if I could find a way to keep all the pages in one place for people to read lmao. Might make a new account specifically for it

#starbound #starbound story #extended starbound universe #silly stuff